


When the World Caves In

by aheadfullofwrackspurts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Complete, Drarry, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21584047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheadfullofwrackspurts/pseuds/aheadfullofwrackspurts
Summary: Draco's world crumbles when Harry doesn't return home from work.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	When the World Caves In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [consultmeforcumberbatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultmeforcumberbatch/gifts).



> Hello, Everyone!
> 
> I'm here with a little one-shot that I have been working on for a while. This is a bit different to my other works and is my first time dealing with romance so please be kind! 
> 
> I have promised my sister, Consultmeforcumberbatch a Drarry story for a while and so this work is dedicated to her. With that being said, this will be a M/M romance and so if that isn't up your alley, don't read. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Though I wish I did, I do not own the Harry Potter stories or their characters, they belong solely to J.K. Rowling. This is just for a bit of fun! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

Draco opened his eyes and awoke to the familiar sound of the shower running in the adjacent en-suite bathroom and, groaning, he turned over and buried his face back into his pillow. It was far too early to get up yet, there may well be light filtering in through the window and birds chirping their morning song outside, but it was still far too early.

It was midsummer and, even at this time in the morning, the heat was stifling. Kicking the covers off, Draco stretched and attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes. There was no chance that he would get back to sleep now and so, with a heavy sigh, Draco admitted defeat and swung his legs over the side of the bed before crossing the room and opening the window, thankful for the brief reprieve the morning breeze offered him.

Throwing on a t-shirt over his boxer shorts, Draco decided that he would return to make the bed later when he was slightly more awake. Making his way into the kitchen, he endeavoured to make a start on breakfast, but first things first: coffee. Despite the heat of summer, Draco couldn’t go one morning without the bitter beverage, and nobody wanted to be in the same room as him until he’d had his morning fix.

As he was preparing his latte, Draco absently noticed that the shower had stopped running and knew that his partner would appear soon. Concluding that he should probably start preparing breakfast, Draco left his latte to cool a little and began to flitter about the kitchen. Upon examining the contents of the fridge, he decided to make poached eggs on toast and set to work. 

Just as he was about to start cracking the eggs into a pan of boiling water, he felt a pair of muscular arms encircle him from behind and a head rest on his shoulder to peer into the saucepan. Draco paid his visitor no mind as he worked, knowing their breakfast would be ruined if he made a mistake at this stage.

Finishing the most crucial part of his prep, he felt his partner plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey.” The familiar voice said, tightening their arms around him.

“Hello.” Draco responded, leaning over slightly to grasp his mug and taking a sip.

“You didn’t make the bed.” The man behind him deadpanned.

“No, I didn’t.” Draco replied, keeping a close eye on the eggs.

“You always make the bed. You say only uncouth people leave it unmade.”

Draco snorted in response before turning around to face his lover, who was smiling widely, his emerald green eyes showing more happiness than his smile ever could.

If someone had told Draco five years ago that he would have fallen for Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Saviour of the Wizarding World, of all people, he would have laughed in their face and offered them a place on the psychiatric ward in St Mungo’s. They both made a truce after the war which developed into a tentative friendship before blossoming into a romantic relationship. They were a rather unlikely couple, like Pumpkin Juice and Firewhisky, but he guessed that’s why they fit so perfectly.

“You must have rubbed off on me.” Draco said with a smirk, earning a playful shove from Harry.

“Hey! If you want your breakfast, don’t manhandle the cook.” Draco said in mock annoyance as he placed two sliced English muffins into the toaster.

Harry just smirked and continued hovering over his shoulder as he prepared to dish up their breakfast.

“Make yourself useful and pass me the butter, will you?” Draco added.

“Whatever you say…darling.” Harry joked, which earned him a swift kick up the arse from Draco.

“Oi!” Harry said indignantly before the pair childishly started fighting over the butter to see who could finish buttering their muffin and assemble their breakfast first.

“Ha!” Draco proclaimed, smirking triumphantly as he dashed over to the dining table and took a seat.

Harry toddled over not long after that with a facial expression akin to that of a wounded puppy.

“That doesn’t work anymore.” Draco informed him as he tucked into his breakfast, Harry just sticking his tongue out immaturely in response.

All was silent, save for the clinking of silverware against crockery and Draco savoured the time to properly wake up. As much as he loved Harry and his whirlwind of a personality, he did relish in the silence.

“So…” Harry started, trying to make conversation, “…do you have any plans for today?”

Draco shook his head. “No, just the usual. If I feel like it I’ll write but I don’t do well in the heat.” He admitted.

Harry snorted around a mouthful of eggs. “Ah, that’s why your skin is so translucent.”

“Shut it.” Draco said, smirking as he polished off the rest of his breakfast before leaning back in his chair.

“Ugh, I need a holiday.” He mused. “Let’s go to…I don’t know, Alaska or something. Somewhere for my, how did you put it? Translucent skin.”

Harry chuckled before he too stretched back in his chair.

“Yeah, I could do with that.” Harry said, stifling a yawn.

“That settles it then, Merlin knows you need it.”

“You know I can’t go on holiday, Draco.” Harry sighed. “My troop needs me.”

Draco rolled his eyes and huffed. After the war, Harry had been offered a job as an Auror and he jumped at the opportunity. It was the only thing he ever wanted to do and Draco was proud to say that Harry had managed to advance to the role of Head Auror. He wouldn’t begrudge Harry anything, but the full weeks and long hours were taking their toll on Harry and it was clear to see that he was in desperate need of a break.

“Harry, you haven’t missed a day of work since you had the flu two winters ago. I’m sure the rest of your crew can manage without you for a week.” Draco reasoned.

“We’ve talked about this, Draco.” Harry huffed. “There will plenty of time for holidays when I take an early retirement. Right now, they need me and I will be around for them as long as they do.”

“So much for an early retirement then.” Draco muttered. “You’ll still be working at seventy at this rate.”

“Look, Draco, I have to. If there are still people out there that need my help then I’m going to keep fighting.”

“For God’s sake, Harry!” Draco snapped. “We’re not fighting a war anymore! You could be helping people until you’re dead and gone and it still won’t change the world. Don’t you see that? Haven’t you done enough?!”

“If I can make one persons life better then it is worthwhile.” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“Well there you have it, you’re done then,” Draco replied, flailing his arms about, “You’ve done that two-thousand times over! So when the hell are you going to ditch this stupid hero complex and think of yourself for once!” Draco shouted, which seemed to ignite Harry’s fury.

“I know what a bloody damn war looks like, Draco, I fought in one! I’m going to continue fighting until I’m old and crippled and if you can’t live with that then that’s your problem.” Harry spat before pushing his chair back with more force than was necessary.

“Look, Harry…” Draco tried to apologise but his partner was already disappearing from the room in a mass of green flames.

***

Draco knew he had royally messed up this time and he muttered a string of curses under his breath. It was true, he had been on at Harry for months about having a day off. In all the time they have been together, not once have they been on a holiday as a couple and Draco thought it was about time. He loved Harry but he could be a right stubborn arsehole sometimes.

Turning away from the fireplace, Draco flourished his wand to set the dishes washing themselves before he went to get ready for the day. As he walked into the bedroom, he saw that there had been a little role-reversal: Harry had made the bed. Draco couldn’t help the small upturn of his lips but it quickly vanished when his anger at Harry resurfaced.

After a freshen up in the shower and a change of clothes, Draco wandered aimlessly around their flat as he contemplated what to do with his day. Working as a philanthropist definitely had its perks, one being that he only had to brave the Ministry of Magic three days a week. Usually he passed the rest of the time by using his infamous knowledge of the Dark Arts to devise counter-curses. Draco felt it was his duty to make up for his behaviour in the past by offering as much help to others as possible. It was never his intention to join the Death Eaters, but with his twisted father devoted to a demonic leader, he didn’t have much of a choice. Thankfully, his father was now rotting in Azkaban where he belonged.

Writing was out of the question today however, there was no way he would be able to concentrate with his anger still simmering below the skin’s surface. Though he knew he shouldn’t have pressed the issue so much, it was starting to bother him just how much Harry worked, he hardly ever saw him. He hated to admit it but he was lonely.

Feeling utterly defeated and incredibly guilty, Draco decided to pop into Muggle London to get an apology gift for Harry. They had never really had a major disagreement before, they tended to just have petty arguments that were often resolved quickly. He hoped that buying Harry a peace offering may make things a little less awkward when he returned home from work tonight.

With his decision made, Draco grabbed his wallet full of Muggle money and his wand before flooing to the Leaky Cauldron and walking from there. He was glad that he had decided to venture into Muggle London instead of Diagon Alley, at least he wouldn’t have to wear a set of robes. No, instead he was clad in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt, his Muggle clothing was certainly more breathable in the scorching heat.

Shuffling past the collection of people in the Leaky Cauldron, Draco stepped out onto the pavement and headed towards the main shopping district. As he ambled along, Draco racked his brains trying to decide on the best gift for Harry. There was no way he, Draco Malfoy, was going to be clićhe and buy his partner a box of chocolates or a bottle of wine. No, it needed to be more heartfelt than that.

Mindlessly heading towards Knightsbridge, Draco supposed he would begin his search for a gift in Harrods. If he couldn’t find anything suitable in there, he would be hard pressed to find it anywhere. Pushing past the crowd of excitable tourists, Draco headed towards the escalator and couldn’t help but chuckle. Before he had befriended Harry, he had never been exposed to the Muggle World and everything was alien to him. He remembered being completely baffled by this strange Muggle contraption and ended up clinging to Harry whenever he had to step foot on one, much to Harry’s hilarity. Luckily he had become a bit more well acquainted with them since then, and no longer needed Harry to support him.

Thirty minutes into his shopping trip and Draco was already fed up, the place was jumping with holiday makers and he was losing the will to live. It was difficult to get a decent look at anything at the best of times but this was just ridiculous. At this point, the only department he hadn’t ventured into was the toy department and there was no way in hell he was getting Harry a teddy bear. He’d rue the day he ever acted like a sappy, overemotional Hufflepuff.

Unsurprisingly, the only square inch of the shop that wasn’t inundated with people was the luxury jewellery section. Even though it was unlikely he would find anything here, browsing this section would be a welcome reprieve from the bustling crowds in the department store. Everything was priced in triple figures or above but it wasn’t as if Draco cared. He wasn’t short on money and didn’t batter an eyelid purchasing anything with four zeroes on the price tag. The pair may live in a fairly modest flat but that didn’t mean he had to skimp when buying other things.

There were plenty of lovely things on display but all seemed too ostentatious for an apology gift, products like these tended to be reserved for special occasions such as birthdays or anniversaries. Just as he was about to leave the section in pursuit of something more acceptable, a collection of rings caught his eye. Drawing closer, he noticed that they were labelled as ‘Promise Rings’. Guessing it was a Muggle tradition, Draco looked at the selection more closely and discover that a Promise Ring was purchased to show your partner that you will love them forever. They are usually bought when, for whatever reason, couples aren’t ready to marry or are too young to wed, but it seemed to fit his needs perfectly. Draco had been wanting to propose to Harry for a while but he hadn’t had the balls to do it, and he hardly thought this was the right time. He spotted a plain silver band towards the back of the cabinet that, upon first glance looked completely unadorned, but on closer inspection, one could see an intricate Celtic pattern engraved on the ring’s surface. Draco just naturally gravitated towards it and he had this unexplainable impulse to buy it.

Almost as if he could read Draco’s thoughts, a clean-cut male assistant dressed in a Vivienne Westwood suit and a pair of white, satin gloves approached him.

“Do you need any help at all, Sir?” The man asked primly.

Draco turned to face him and silently wished that he had dressed more appropriately for the occasion, he felt very out of place in his washed out jeans and polo shirt.

“Yes, I would just like to purchase a Promise Ring if I may?” Draco responded politely.

“Certainly, Sir. Has one in particular caught your eye?”

“Yes, I would like to take a closer look at one in the back row, third from the left.” Draco explained, pointing to the ring in question.

“Ah.” The man nodded. “That particular ring is actually intended for men, are you sure this is the one you wanted, Sir?”

Draco sighed, he had overlooked this slight issue. He had forgotten how backwards the Muggle world was when it came to homosexual relationships, it was mostly accepted in the Wizarding World. It tended to only be traditional pureblooded families that frowned upon it. Well, it was too late to bail now so he may as well be upfront about it.

“No, you are not mistaken. It is in fact a man I intend to gift it to.”

He watched as a blush slowly crept up from the man’s neck until his face resembled that of a child being caught breaking their grandmother’s antique vase.

“My apologies, Sir. I didn’t mean to imply-“ The man spluttered before Draco saved him from the awkwardness.

Waving his hand as if swatting a fly he said, “Oh don’t worry yourself.”

“I do apologise, Sir.” The man added sincerely. “Would you like me to wrap this up for you?”

“If you would, do you take cheques?” He asked as he followed the man over to the till.

***

Striding out of Harrods, Draco felt very accomplished. He had managed to find the perfect gift for Harry all before lunchtime. As he made his way back over to the Leaky Cauldron, Draco had another idea. Though he had purchased a Muggle ring for Harry, that didn’t mean he couldn’t take it to the jewellers in Diagon Alley to be imbued with a selection of charms. Congratulating himself on his own intelligence, Draco cut through the Leaky Cauldron and made his way to the jewellers.

The shop itself was a little off the beaten track, tucked in behind some of the more well-known shops, and so it took Draco a little while to get there. The bell above the door chimed as he walked in and a stubby man with greying hair and a rather dirty looking apron materialised.

“Hello there, how can I help you?” The man asked.

“Hello, I was just wondering how long it takes for charms to be added to a piece of jewellery?” Draco enquired.

“Well that depends on the piece and the charms you wish to place on it. ” The man mused. “Do you have anything particular in mind?”

“Yes.” Draco confirmed, walking towards the counter. “I would like to have a protection charm added to this ring.” He explained, opening the silver, silk-lined box and offering it to the man to inspect.

“For something of this size, I would say it should take about an hour or two to finish.”

“That would be perfect, would I be able to pick it up in a couple of hours?” Draco questioned,

“Yes or course, would you like me to add the basic anti-tarnish spells to it and whatnot?”

“Yes please, would you like me to pay now?”

“No, no, you can pay on receipt. It should take me around ninety minutes so if you want to grab some lunch or do some shopping and then come back?” The man suggested.

Nodding his head, Draco thanked the jeweller before exiting the shop and heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. He was starving and decided on getting a bite to eat.

Seeing as it was one in the afternoon on a weekday, the pub was practically empty and only had a few elderly witches and wizards occupying the tables. Taking a seat in the far corner, he perused the menu, though it never changed, and waited for someone to come and take his order. He ordered leek and potato soup with a glass or water and just sat back and relaxed as he ate, killing the time he would have to wait for Harry’s ring.

Ninety minutes later found Draco back in the jewellers and the man stumbled out to him and offered him the ring to look at.

“There you go, all done.” The man confirmed, handing it back to him.

“Thank you.” Draco responded before presenting his wand to pay and taking the all too familiar walk back to the Leaky Cauldron to floo back home.

Just as he was about to step in the hearth, another idea struck Draco and he walked over to the bar where a middle-aged, curly haired woman stood cleaning beer jugs with a cloth.

“What can I get you?” She asked.

“Well, I have a bit of an odd request…” Draco started.

The woman cackled. “Oh, I doubt that. I’ve ‘eard it all ere, love.”

“Well, I know that you serve Treacle Tart and I wanted to take it away with me.”

“Course, I’ll get ‘em to cut you a slice.” The woman confirmed.

“No wait, that’s not what I mean.” Draco hastened to explain. “I’d like the whole tart.”

The woman just chuckled. “I’d forgotten what it’s like to be young.”

Draco just ignored the comment and thanked the woman when she came back with the desired tart. Finally feeling as though he had thought of everything, Draco flooed back to his and Harry’s apartment.

***

Arriving home, Draco was at a bit of a loss of what to do next. He kept beating himself up about their argument and just didn’t know what to do with himself. After pacing for a while, he finally caved and slumped down onto the sofa. Well and truly knackered, Draco didn’t feel like writing and, admitting defeat, just let his eyes close for a few minutes.

A few minutes however, turned into over an hour and it was half-past four by the time Draco awoke.Harry would be home just after five and so he summoned a book to keep him occupied whilst he waited. Half-past five came around and there was still no sign of Harry, Draco berated himself for worrying, it wasn’t usual for Harry to work late after all.

Another hour went by and there was still no sign of him, maybe he was avoiding him and decided to visit friends or something? Regardless, Draco told himself he was being ridiculous and tried turning the television on. It wasn’t long before he started pacing around the living room and wearing a track in the carpet.

It was now past eight in the evening and there was still no word from Harry. Draco couldn’t ignore the fact that the worry was eating at him now and he couldn’t relax. Just as he was about to floo call Granger to see whether or not she had seen him, a letter swept through the floo and landed on the rug in front of the hearth.

Draco’s hands were shaking a he gently unfastened the wax seal on the the back of the envelope. Harry wasn’t home and there was a note on his living room carpet, something had to be amiss. Unfortunately, he was right.

_Dear Mr Malfoy,_

_We are reluctant to inform you that Mr Harry James Potter has been wounded in action and is currently in the intensive care unit a St Mungo’s Hospital._

_With greatest sympathies,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt_

_Minister of Magic._

As he read through the letter, Draco’s heart lodged itself in his throat and he felt like he was going to vomit. His boyfriend has been critically injured, may never recover and the last thing he did was have a stupid argument with him. Without any further hesitation, Draco exited his flat and apparated to St Mungo’s, terrified of what would be waiting for him there.

***

Upon arrival at the hospital, Draco strode right over to the intensive care unit and straight up to the nurse’s desk. The young woman looked up as he approached.

“How may I help you?” She asked politely, looking at him with undisguised concern. He must look a wreck.

“Yes, uh, I’m looking for Harry, Harry Potter.” Draco muttered, his eyes darting around distractedly.

“Okay.” She said, turning to look at the chart on the desk beside her. “He is in room twelve. All you need to do is sign in for me.” The woman explained, offering him a clipboard with a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill.

Draco’s hands were shaking as he tried to legibly write his name and current time on the proffered parchment. Concluding that his messy scrawl would have to do, he handed the clipboard back to the receptionist and headed along the corridor to room twelve.

Proceeding towards Harry’s room, Draco paused outside the door, steeling himself for what he was about to walk into. Taking a final breath, Draco swung open the door and there was Harry. It was exactly as bad as you would picture in your worst nightmares.

Harry was lying there, completely motionless, with an oxygen mask covering his face and a selection of IV bags hovering in the air above him. Draco had to lean on the door frame for support, for he was likely to fall unceremoniously onto the unnaturally polished tile otherwise. After a few moments he mustered up the courage to move closer, tiptoeing even though it was very unlikely Harry would hear him in his unconscious state. Arriving at his partner’s bedside, Draco carefully lowered himself onto the adjacent chair and leant forward to get a closer look at Harry.

The man was deathly pale and there was an ever so subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Whatever had happened to Harry must have been horrific. The parts of his boyfriend that he could see, albeit not much, were spattered with dark purple bruises and he had a particularly deep gash across his cheek. Draco ached to see Harry awake and his smiley self and there was nothing at that moment that he regretted more than engaging in the petty argument with Harry this morning. For all he knew, that could have been the very last thing he will say to a conscious Harry and the mere thought of that made his stomach curdle.

Not want to be seen as a blubbering fool when the nurses came in to check on Harry, Draco took a series of deep breaths before simply leaning over and gently grasping Harry’s hand in his. Few minutes had passed when the door swung open, the sound deafening to the uncomfortable silence, causing Draco to almost leap out of his chair.

In walked a healer, and not just any healer, this man was one of the best healers in St Mungo’s, having recognised his aged face and greying hair from the tragic newspaper stories he read in the Prophet. The fact that the man was aiding Harry filled him with equal amounts of reassurance and trepidation. He knew that Harry would undoubtably be in capable hands, yet the situation must be pretty dire for the gentlemen to be summoned in the first place.

Slowly rising from his chair, Draco stood and the Healer walked over to him and gripped his had in a firm handshake.

“Good evening, Mr Malfoy. I am Healer Barton and I am overseeing Mr Potter’s care at the moment. Please have a seat.” The man said, gesturing to the chair that Draco had just vacated. “I am sorry to meet you under such undesirable circumstances, but I can guarantee you that Mr Potter is in very capable hands here.”

Draco nodded his head fractionally, “Thank you, Healer Barton.”

The man cleared his throat before continuing. “Now, I am sure you are curious to know the nature of Mr Potter’s condition?”

Draco just nodded mutely, afraid that he would burst into tears if he opened his mouth to speak, he could already feel tears welling up behind his eyes.

“I am afraid to tell you that Mr Potter’s injuries are rather…severe.” Healer Barton trailed off and Draco couldn’t even bring himself to look at the man.

“He has been unconscious since he was brought here and has sustained a variety of cuts and abrasions as well as several broken bones, most notably a crushed left knee cap and a few broken ribs, which have indeed, punctured his lung.”

Draco felt a solid lump rise in his throat and his vision started to blur due to unshed tears as the Healer ploughed on.

“Upon examination we also found that he has sustained a rather nasty head injury, hence why he is still unconscious. We are unsure as yet whether there will be any lasting damage.”

Draco’s head shot up so fast that he was surprised he didn’t break his neck, he must have had a look of absolute horror on his face as the Healer gave him a sympathetic look.

“What kind of lasting damage?” Draco croaked, not sure he even wanted an answer to that question.

“Well, severe head injuries can lead to a number of things weakness and loss of feeling in limbs, though that may return over time. Intermittent seizures and, in more severe cases, vision loss and amnesia.”

Draco felt as though his heart was in his mouth and he struggled to swallow around the ever-growing lump in his throat.

“I don’t want to worry you, Mr Malfoy. As I said, we are unsure yet as to whether there will be any lasting damage and we will do as much as we can for Mr Potter, I assure you. We will see how lucid he is when he wakes and we will devise a plan from there.”

Again, Draco just nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak.

“I will leave you both for now, just give one of the nurses a call should you need anything.” The Healer added before heading towards the door of Harry’s cubicle.

“Thank you, Healer Barton.” Draco said sincerely, the man giving him a nauseatingly sympathetic smile before pulling the door closed behind him.

Now Draco was alone, he had an opportunity for the Healers words to sink in. He started pacing up and down the room, hoping that the repetitive moment would distract him from the unpleasant thoughts that were buzzing around in his head. He had no idea how long he had been pacing before the door reopened and he caught a glimpse of a mass of frizzy brown hair.

Momentarily stopping his frantic pacing, Draco looked up to see a tearful looking Hermione and that was his undoing as he burst into tears. Feeling absolutely ridiculous for crying in front of Granger, Draco tried to reign in his violent sobs when he felt a pair of gentle arms encircle him which made him cry even harder.

Taking the comfort that Hermione was offering him, he leant over and buried his face in her shoulder as he continued to sob. Draco was beyond glad that Harry’s friends had accepted him and they had all reconciled. Draco still had his moments, having had pureblood ideology drilled into him since birth, but overall things ran smoothly between himself and Harry’s friends. They were loyal to a fault. Hermione was still stroking his back comfortingly as his cries quietened and even held out a tissue for him when he raised his head.

“S-sorry.” Draco stuttered, cringing at how utterly pathetic he sounded.

“Don’t apologise.” Hermione muttered with a tearful look on her face.

“Is Weasley alright?” Draco asked.

Hermione looked a little flummoxed. “He’s fine, why’s that?”

“Well, wasn’t he working with Harry?” Draco asked in confusion.

Hermione shook her head a fraction. “He’s on paternity leave, remember?” She replied softly, Draco could have smacked himself.

“Of course he is, I forgot about that.” Draco confessed, still dabbing the remaining tears from his eyes. “Is he at home with Rosie?”

Hermione nodded. “We agreed to swap over in about an hour. I dread to think what state the house will be in when I get home.”

Draco smirked, just picturing the state that the Weasley could get into looking after their three month old daughter. Even though there was a temporary lift to the solemn mood, Draco’s face fell again.

“Do you know what happened?” He asked and Hermione nodded her head.

“From what I understand there was talk of a group of Voldemort sympathisers on the outskirts of Kent that the Auror Department have been trying to track down for months. They finally got a lead on the location and were sent out to investigate. The Auror's found about a group of eighteen of them in an abandoned house, most of which had been restrained. Then a group of Auror's, including Harry, went up to to search the attic where they found a collection of dark artefacts. A man came out from his hiding place in the corner and cast ‘Bombarda’ on the roof and it caved in, killing himself and gravely injuring the others.” Hermione explained solemnly.

Draco closed his eyes and cringed as he thought about the ceiling caving in on an unsuspecting Harry and how terrifying that must have been. In a sense he was glad that Harry had been knocked out, if he had been awake and suffering until help arrived, that was almost worse. Almost.

Taking up his chair beside Harry’s bed again, Draco resigned himself to the fact that it was going to be a long night. There was no way that he could go home and rest, he was frazzled and his nerves were shot. Hermione and Ron came and went and before long the sun rose on the horizon outside Harry’s cubical signalling the beginning of a new day. Draco hadn’t slept a wink, nor had he moved an inch except to use the bathroom. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had eaten or drunk anything but he hardly cared. All that mattered right now was Harry.

Slowly rising from his chair, Draco cricked his back into alignment after sitting in the most uncomfortable straight-back chair all night and had to close his eyes at the wave of dizziness that assaulted him. He really needed to drink, and soon, he was no good to Harry if he passed out from not taking care of himself.

Hermione had informed Draco that Ron would be the first one to visit this morning, and that was likely to be early seeing as the redhead seemed to be just as concerned as him over his best friend’s welfare. Pacing the room and working the kinks out of his back, Draco, for the millionth time, looked over at Harry, praying that his eyes would be open and the man’s unnatural stillness would cease. Alas, nothing had changed and Harry was just still as he had been five minutes ago. Draco stood admiring his partner for another few minutes and, even though it had barely been twenty four hours since their argument yesterday morning, there was a light stubble starting to grace Harry’s upper lip and chin. Draco didn’t have the faintest idea how Harry managed to grow facial hair so quickly, he only had to shave once a week at most and it was a running joke between the pair. Draco couldn’t help but smirk when Harry had turned around and bluntly told him that he had the same amount of body hair as a twelve year old girl.

Getting lost in his reminiscing, Draco didn’t notice anyone approaching until the cubicle door burst open and a familiar mop of red hair emerged.

“Merlin, don’t do that to me, Weasel!” Draco said indignantly, clutching his heart as if doing so would make it return to its natural rhythm.

The red head just smirked at him. “Weasel? Haven’t heard that one for a while.” He added, pulling the other chair over and sitting on the opposite side of Harry’s bed.

Draco slumped back down onto the uncomfortable chair and rubbed his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out.”

Ron waved his hand, “Don’t worry about it, I get that you’re worried, we all are.”

Rummaging around in a plastic carrier bag, the redhead pulled out a brown paper bag and handed it to him. “Here, I picked you up a croissant and…” He paused, reaching over to the table beside him, “…a latte. Harry tells me that you can’t function in the morning without coffee.” Weasley said offering him a small smile.

Despite not feeling like consuming anything at the moment, Draco took the takeaway coffee cup with a muttered ‘thanks’ and started sipping it ever so slowly. It was nice to have a little familiarity even though things were currently far from normal. The pair just sat nursing their drinks and Draco even started dipping pieces of his croissant into his latte when the door opened and the Mediwitch arrived to carry out observations.

Much to Draco’s distaste, a young and overly cheerful Mediwitch had interrupted the silence every hour during the night. Her inane chatter was driving Draco to distraction and he was immensely glad to see that a subdued brunette Mediwitch had taken her place this morning.

Once she was done, she silently left the room and left the pair to their own devices once more. Ron had started reading Quidditch Quarterly whilst glancing at Harry intermittently and Draco just leant back in his chair and closed his eyes for a few moments.

***

When Draco reopened his eyes, he found that he was looking at the room from a sideways view. He quickly realised that his head had drooped to the side whilst he had been sleeping and slowly righted himself, his neck making a sickening crack upon straightening it. As he slowly came around, Draco started to notice what had awoken him: a monotonous beeping sound. Suddenly realising that the sound was coming from one of the many monitoring spells that had been placed on Harry, he looked up at the wall in bewilderment as he saw his boyfriend’s heart rate rising rather rapidly.

Not wanting to waste another second, Draco leapt out of his chair and raced out of the door, frantically calling for Healer Barton, who was currently doing his morning rounds. He’ll give the Healer credit as he merely dropped whatever he was doing and darted into Harry’s cubicle, taking in the beeping and looking over at Harry. It turned out that Harry was now whimpering and Draco ached to move forward and comfort him, however a hand landed on his shoulder and gently pulled him back.

“I think he is trying to wake up.” The Healer informed him.

“Isn’t it too soon?” Draco asked worriedly as he glanced back at Harry who was getting louder and sounding even more desperate.

“Not for us magic folk.” Healer Barton explained. “If he were a Muggle it could have taken weeks but, lucky for us, Harry is exceptionally powerful and so I cannot say I'm surprised.

Draco nodded and attempted to move forward again but the hand dragged him back.

“It is probably better if you stand by the door.” The man admitted. “He’s likely to be confused and frightened upon waking and we just don’t know how his magic will react.”

As much as he hated having to stand back and listen to his partner’s whimpering, he took the Healer’s advice and stood by the door, praying to any deity up there that Harry would be okay. A painful twenty minutes later, both Draco and the healer jumped out of their skins as Harry’s eyes flew open and he started shaking, attempting to sit up. Noticing the oxygen mask on his face, Harry flailed to get it off and started frantically looking around, though Draco knew Harry would only be able to make out undulating blobs of colour without his glasses on, which was terrifying in itself.

Healer Barton started to approach Harry before his boyfriend shouted.

“Stay away! Where am I and what do you want with me?!”

“Mr Potter, you are in St Mungo’s, you had an accident. I’m not here to hurt you.” The Healer replied carefully.

Harry was still trembling violently as he tried to control his breathing.

“Do you remember what happened at all?” Healer Barton pressed and Draco felt his heart stop as he waited for an answer. This was the pivotal moment that would tell him whether the Harry he knew was still there or had vanished forever.

The seconds ticked by painfully slowly and Draco swore that he was holding his breath the entire time. A frown marred Harry’s brow as he tried to remember how he ended up under the crisp white sheets at St Mungo’s. After what felt like a lifetime, Harry hesitantly broke the silence.

“I was on a mission, wasn’t I?” Harry asked tentatively and Draco finally let himself take a few shallow breaths.

“Indeed you were.” The Healer replied. “Do you remember anything else at all?”

“The last thing I remember is going up to investigate the attic…the rest is just black.” Harry muttered.

Healer Barton seemed to sigh in relief and his posture relaxed slightly. “I would expect that to be the last thing you remember, unfortunately the man you encountered there cast ‘Bombarda’ on the ceiling which caved in and knocked you out…” The man trailed off.

“How bad is it?” Harry asked, screwing his eyes shut as if to prepare himself for the news.

“In all honesty, I think you are very lucky…” Harry’s head shot up so quickly he likely jarred his neck and looked questioningly at the Healer. “…you have only been in a coma for…well not even twenty-four hours.” Healer Garton intoned, glancing at his wristwatch. “As far as injuries go, you have been knocked around quite a bit and have sustained a crushed knee cap and a punctured lung, though luckily it seems as though you have avoided a serious head injury. All of your broken bones have been healed and you will remain on oxygen until your lung has healed and is re-evaluated. You are likely to be here for a few days yet, but it shouldn’t be too long until you are back on your feet again.”

Harry nodded and offered the man a smile. “Thank you, Healer…?”

“Barton, and you are most welcome, Mr Potter.” The Healer said sincerely, slowly walking towards Harry and transfiguring the huge oxygen mask he had been sporting before into a smaller one that rested just inside his nose. “Do you have any more questions before I continue my rounds?”

“Um…well it’s not a health related question really, it’s just…”

“Yes?” Healer Barton prompted.

“Has my partner been to visit me?” Harry said in a rush.

The Healer offered him a small smile, which Harry likely couldn’t see as he still didn’t have his glasses on. “He is right here, Mr Potter, I just didn’t want to frighten you too much when you awoke.”

Harry just nodded slightly and the tension in the room grew until Healer Barton decided to excuse himself. “Well, I shall leave you both to it. Just call if you need anything, Mr Potter.” The man added before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Draco just stood there watching Harry, hoping that he would make the first move and initiate conversation. Several minutes passed by and Harry did something that Draco hadn’t seen him do since just after the war: he burst into tears. Not hesitating for another moment, Draco rushed over to his boyfriends bedside and frantically tried to figure out what was wrong.

“Harry?! What’s wrong?” Draco asked, panicking as his eyes swept over Harry’s collection of monitoring charms.

Harry heaved in a breath. “I’m s-sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have g-gone, you s-said…” His partner choked out between sobs and Draco gently lowered himself onto Harry’s bed and carefully wrapped his arms around him.

Reacting immediately, Harry pulled him even closer and squeezed him tightly, almost as if he were afraid that Draco would disappear if he didn’t cling on to him tightly enough. Draco whispered comforting words as he lightly stroked Harry’s back, mindful that he still had some nasty injuries healing.

He couldn’t tell how long they stayed in their embrace but, as Harry’s cries slowed down and eventually stopped, Draco leant back slightly and reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a tissue. He gently wiped the tears away, conscious of the deep gash on Harry’s cheek that was yet to heal fully before discarding the soiled tissue. Then, Draco stared into Harry’s tired, red-rimmed eyes.

“Don’t you ever frighten me like that again.” Draco said firmly, though his eyes softened as Harry smirked, letting out a soft snort before he leant over to give him a tender kiss on the lips.

“Love you too.” He murmured and Draco couldn’t help but smile and lean in to kiss him back.

Disentangling himself from Harry, Draco went to get off the bed when a strong pull on his shirt sent him falling back against the bed with an ‘oomph’. Before he had time to right himself, Harry pulled Draco against him before lying down.

“How is it you can still fling me around like a sack of potatoes when a bloody roof caved in on you?!” Draco asked, flabbergasted as he tried to sit up again but being pulled back down, Harry groaning in pain as he aggravated his injuries.

“Harry, you are going to hurt yourself in a minute,” Draco warned, “and I can’t stay here.” He protested weakly. “They’ll kick me out.”

“Just let them try.” Harry mumbled, pulling Draco closer to him and burying his head into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

Within seconds, Harry’s arms slackened and his breathing deepened as he drifted off into the land of nod. Draco chuckled lightly before leaning down to press a kiss in Harry’s untameable mop of hair. Dear Gods, he was so glad he was alright.

***

Epilogue

It had been two months since Harry’s accident and, thankfully, everything was starting to return to normal. Harry spent a further four days in St Mungo’s before being cleared to head home, providing he took things easy. The Auror department had insisted that Harry had at least three months off before returning to work, and he won’t be allowed out on the frontline for at least another six. Harry, being Harry, was disappointed but he understood. Things were running smoothly in the days following Harry’s discharge from hospital, which made Harry collapsing from a seizure at home all the more frightening. Thankfully, this wasn’t that uncommon for someone who had suffered from a head injury, and Healer Barton had diagnosed Harry with Late Post-traumatic Seizures. Harry’s symptoms were easily controlled with a variety of potions and so, luckily, his partner hadn’t suffered another attack since.

All that had led them here, to the top of a snow-covered mountain in Austria. Though it was a bit delayed, and they were now heading into the Autumn months, Draco was just glad to finally be on holiday with Harry. As soon as St Mungo’s had deemed Harry fit for travel, they packed up and left.

Looking over his right shoulder, Draco found Harry trudging through the snow towards him, dragging a sledge behind him.

“What on earth are you planning now?” Draco asked him with a smirk.

Panting, Harry stopped next to him. “Well, seeing as we both can’t ski, I thought we could go down on this.” Harry explained, pointing to his chosen method of transport.

“No way.” Draco declared firmly, shaking his head. “You have just recovered from a serious injury and now you want to ride a sledge down this incredibly steep mountain? You’re insane.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s charmed so it won’t tip and I can easily slow it down,” his partner reassured him, “and anyway, you’ll be with me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Draco spluttered and Harry laughed in response.

“Come on, live a little.” Harry said seating himself on the sledge before looking over his shoulder at Draco. “Are you coming then, or are you going to leave me to go down on my own and potentially injure myself?” Harry asked, giving him that infamous puppy-dog look.

“I keep telling you that doesn’t work anymore.” Draco said, sighing as he seated himself behind Harry on the sled and put his arms around him.

“I beg to differ!” Harry said with a chuckle as he kicked the ground to get the sledge going.

It didn’t take long for the pair to pick up speed and Harry was cackling with laughter as Draco screamed for him to slow down multiple times. Draco wasn’t one for anything fast, he wouldn’t even reach top speed on his broomstick. Harry continued laughing hysterically and Draco continued screaming until they were approaching the bottom and Harry finally decided to slow down.

As they came to a halt, Draco leant to the side and flopped down onto the snow as he tried to get his breath back.

“Ugh, land.” Draco muttered, lying still and waiting for his head to return its rightful place on his shoulders. “Solid land.”

“We never left the land, you idiot.” Harry teased before kicking the snow next to him so that it covered Draco.

Draco himself had his back to Harry and he deftly made a snowball before lobbing it back at his partner.

“Oi!” He shouted indignantly, taking refuge behind a tree before sending his own snowball towards Draco.

The pair then descended into a full on snowball fight. It wasn’t until Draco had cast a spell to rapidly fire the snowballs at Harry that he finally surrendered and flopped down at the base of an adjacent tree.

Draco sauntered over with a smirk. “I won.” He declared proudly as he lowered himself beside Harry.

“Cocky Git.” Harry said, giving Draco another playful shove.

As they sat together at the base of the spruce tree, Draco decided this was as good a time as any and delved into his pocket to retrieve the box that held Harry’s gift. It felt as though he had bought it years ago, not merely a few months ago. Taking a deep breath, Draco turned to Harry and offered him the box. Harry took it cautiously but Draco put his hand atop of Harry’s to stop him from opening it.

“I just want to tell you something first.” Draco hastened to explain and Harry nodded for him to continue. “I bought this the morning we had our argument, I went into Muggle London and got it as an apology. I never got the opportunity to give it to you before and I have been waiting for the right time.” Draco admitted. “I hope you like it.” He finished lamely before gesturing for Harry to open it. Harry stared at the piece of jewellery in utter awe when Draco broke the silence.

“It’s not an engagement ring.” Draco hastened to add. “If I were going to propose it wouldn’t be at the bottom of a mountain.”

Harry snorted and looked at Draco as if waiting for him to explain.

“Have you ever heard of a Promise Ring?” Harry shook his head before looking back down at the ring that was still nestled in the box. “It’s a Muggle tradition.” Draco explained. “Usually people give them to their partners when they are too young to get married but, as we haven’t really discussed marriage, I didn’t know if you were ready for that.” He admitted. “This is a token to say that I will love you forever and that, one day in the future, I hope to marry you.”

Harry looked up at him in undisguised shock. “You…you’d really like to marry me one day?” He asked shyly.

Draco just nodded, finding himself overcome with emotion and at a loss for words. “Yes.”

Harry then leapt into his arms and hugged him tightly before carefully taking the ring out of the box and slipping it onto his finger.

“Thank you, I love it!” Harry said and gasped as he felt a tingle of magic where he had slid it onto his finger. “Have you charmed this?” He asked.

“Yes.” Draco replied. “It has a protection charm on it, to keep you safe.” He added.

Harry smiled as a lone tear fell from his eye and he buried himself back in Draco’s arms.

“I would be honoured to marry you one day.” Harry whispered and Draco hugged him even tighter before leaning back to press a firm kiss on Harry’s lips.

Draco didn’t know what the future held but knew that he could get through anything with Harry by his side.


End file.
